A Study In Sulking
by dumpling47
Summary: One-shot. Sherlock gets the passcode to Irene Adler's phone wrong, and John is left to deal with a very cranky detective. AU canon/sort-of crack.


_**A Scandal In Belgravia is my favorite Sherlock episode (so far), but I do find it a bit implausible that Sherlock could logically deduce Irene Adler's passcode ... it was too much of a chance. Here's my take on what would've happened if he'd gotten it wrong - my attempt at a humorous take, that is.**_

* * *

"Sherlock -"

"Go away!"

"Jesus, are you really going to fight with me over a stupid passcode?"

Sherlock crossed his arms petulantly over his chest, glaring up at John from his customary chair. "I knew the code - I _knew_ it! She obviously changed it."

"The hard drive is burnt, Sherlock. There's nothing that can be done, and that's bugger for a lot of people, but -"

Sherlock curled up in a ball and groaned. "She beat me," he said, his voice muffled.

"Yeah ... I guess she did. I guess you let your hubris get the best of you this time."

Sherlock didn't come out of the ball, and John could truly understand his frustration and embarrassment. When confronting the Adler woman, he'd been so sure of the passcode - but he'd been wrong. Irene Adler had laughed in his face; the hard drive had been burnt. There was nothing even Mycroft's men could do, nothing to hold over Irene's head. She was completely in the clear, and Sherlock Holmes had been wrong.

"You cannot imagine how humiliated I was, John," Sherlock moaned, standing and beginning to pace the room.

"So you don't care about the lives affected, do you?" John said, a little miffed. "All you care about was that you made an arse of yourself in front of a woman you liked."

"A woman I _admired_."

John snorted. "She beat you, Sherlock, but they'll peg her for something in the future - I'm sure of it. Hey - don't be like that ..." Sherlock had thrown himself down on the sofa and was punching a pillow angrily. "It's nobody's fault but hers -"

"I let a woman get the best of me," Sherlock scoffed. "This is why you never let your heart rule your head, John. This is what happens when you allow _sentiment_ into your life." He spat the word.

"Well, Jesus," John muttered, throwing his hands up into the air. "I don't know what to say. You're being misogynistic, and acting like a five-year-old, to boot."

Sherlock looked up at his friend. "I'm never wrong," he said, his jaw hard. "Er, well - I'm _rarely_ wrong, when situations are as grave as these. I was so convinced she harbored some sort of feeling for me -"

"And maybe she did," John said, "But really, Sherlock? You thought the password was part of your name? Now that's going a bit far, you must admit."

"Perhaps so," was all Sherlock said.

John was at a loss for what to do. The only thing that would get Sherlock out of this slump was another particularly challenging case - one he was able to solve. Problem was, there wasn't any, and probably wouldn't be any for a long time.

"Well, let me know if there's anything I can do," John said, preparing to leave the room.

Sherlock sat up straight. "Anything?" he asked.

"Er, within reason -"

"You cancelled half our channels on telly last week," he said. "I want those back. And I'm starving. Have Mrs. Hudson make me something, won't you?"

Sure, Sherlock Holmes and crap telly was nothing new, but the fact that he wanted to eat? It was staggering.

"Um, okay," John said, surprised. "What do you want? For food, I mean."

"Chicken noodle soup," Sherlock said with a cheeky grin.

John did all he could not to burst out laughing. "Okay, then." _As long as it gets him out of the dumps,_ he thought.

Twenty minutes later, John had purchased a dozen new channels and Sherlock was seated in his customary position, slurping soup and enjoying _Jeremy Kyle_. It was pretty laughable, but in a way, it made John happy to see that something so small could get Sherlock out of such a black mood.

"This is a special occasion, you know," John warned. "You'd better not be wrong in the future; I don't think I have enough money to keep buying new channels, nor do I think Mrs. Hudson has the patience to keep making you food."

"Oh, shut up," Sherlock said with a grin, his eyes fixed on the screen. "I won't be wrong after this, promise."

"Right."

"Besides, Mrs. Hudson would play housekeeper for the rest of her life if it meant me eating something."

"I suppose there is that."

John watched his friend for a second more, finally deciding to leave the room when Sherlock switched the channel to _Doctor Who_. The great detective, pulled out of his slump by a time lord and a bowl of chicken noodle?

Stranger things had happened, he supposed.


End file.
